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THEOPHILE. ^"^^ 



THEOPHILE 

A MIRACLE PLAY 
BY ^ 
HENRY COPLEY GREENE 




BOSTON 
SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 

MDCCCXCVIII 

L 



.; 



PREFACE. 

The legend of Theophile^s rebellion and re- 
pentance being common property^ I have quarried 
in it without scruple^ and have added from other 
legends the essential idea of this play^ Theo- 
phiW s fidelity to the Virgin. Certain metaphors 
in her honor I have borrowed from the Rosa 
Mystica. A few other phrases^ including the 
sorcerer's ^^Hebrew^^ I have taken from the 
Miracle de Th'eophile of Ruteboeuf This quaint 
thirteenth-century play may be conveniently read 
in the version edited by Remy de Gourmont and 
published in Paris by the Mercure de France. 

H. C. G. 



[VII] 



CHARACTERS. 

IN THE PROLOGUE. 

A Monk Thomas Wentworth Hlgginson, 

A Herald Katrine CooUdge. 

IN the play proper. 

The Virgin Mary 

Eugenia Brooks Frothingham, 
Theophile Richard C. Cabot. 

Satan T. Russell Sullivan. 

Salatin Raphael Pumpelly. 

The Abbot Eusebe 

Thomas JVentworth Higginson, 
An Acolyte Katrine CooUdge, 



The play was first performed^ through the 

kindness of Mr. Joseph Lindon Smithy at the 

Teatro Bambino^ 

in 

Dublin^ New Hampshire^ 

the l8th of July., 

i8g8. 



[VIII] 



iwp ^^' ^O'p -w'w^- aM f ■■ .mr »l " i nnr i M i W'« ii .n 



THEOPHILE. 



THE PROLOGUE. 

Into a garden like the garden of an abbey there 
enter a MoNK and a Herald. And to those 
assembled to behold the play 

The Herald calls : 

Silence ; be silent, friends, and hark how we 

shall play 
A wonder wrought by Her to whom the 

angels pray. 

The Monk. 

Brethren, entreat for us Our Blessed Lady's 
grace, 

That we may set forth worthily before Her 
face 

The trial of Her steadfast servant Theophile. 

And bear ye patiently the ills we must re- 
veal, — 

The secret sinful wiles of brother Mathurin, 

The snares and mighty sorcery of Salatin, 

Eusebe the Abbot's wrath, and Satan's burn- 
ing rage, 

[I] 



And brother Theophile's impassioned will to 
wage 

War against God j — bear all with faith in 
Heaven above, 

And ye shall know a wonder of Our Lady's 
love. 

Enough ; but rest ye silent, though my words 
arc done, 

For now with song our Miracle shall be be- 
gun. 

[They go out.'] 



[2] 



SCENE I. 
The voice of Theophile is heard in song. 

Sir Guy the strongs Sir Guy the bold^ 

Sir Guy whose soul shall never die^ 

Lay dead within his coffin bark^ 

Jnd fared with gifts of beaten gold 

Toward Aries where he was fain to lie. 

But while a heaven-assaulting lark 
Sang gayly o^er the blessed Rhone., 
Three robbers waiting on the shore.. 

Men cursed with Cain*s unholy mark.. 
Seized on the knight who fared alone. 

They saw and seized the gold he bore., 
Then cast him loose to drift from sight. 
He tarried sternly., fixed and cold ; 

And angels smote the robbers sore., 
And rescued all his offerings bright. 

So strong Sir Guy., Sir Guy the bold., 
Sir Guy whose soul shall never die.. 
Fared safe within his coffin bark., 

Fared safe with all his gifts of gold 
To Aries., where he was fain to lie. 

Enter Theophile. 
Sooth, 't was a goodly miracle, 

[3] 



Proving Our Lady's power full well. 
[^He makes the sign of the cross. '\ 

Praise alway to Her holy name. 
And now what song ? Again the same ! 
{.Sings.-} 

Sir Guy the strong.^ Sir Guy the bold.. 
Sir Guy whose soul shall never die — 

SCENE 11. 

Enter Eusebe. 

{Threatening to strike Theophile.] 

Silence, blasphemer ! Silence, treacherous 
one ! 

Theophile [/'« great anger'j . 

By God on high ! 

[^Restraining himself. ~\ 

Sweet Mother, aid thy son ! 

Eusebe. 

Hold ! Theophile, an thou dost love thy soul. 
Call not on Heaven, lest eternal dole 
O'erwhelm thee in thy black impenitence. 

[4] 



Theophile. 

Lord Abbot, in a moment's indolence 
I sang, 't is true, but a right holy song, 
Proving — 

EUSEBE. 

Think not to prove I do thee wrong. 
I chide thee not for slight or seeming sin. 
But damn thee, knowing thou hast sought to 

win 
Infernal power from this Salatin, 
Whose mighty sorcery — 

Theophile [asidi^. 

Ah, Mathurin 1 
I see thy cunning and perfidious wiles ! 

Lord Abbot, trust not Mathurin's false smiles 
And sugared words and sanctimonious 
sighs — 

Eusebe. 
Ha ! What of him ? 

Theophile. 

In deviltry he's wise: 
And knowing that I know what I do know. 
He first accuseth me ! Is it not so ? 

[5] 



EUSEBE. 

In vain dost thou impute to him thine evil 
thought, 

For gentle Mathurin accuseth thee of nought ! 

Nay, in mute suffering memory he hid thy 
guilt 

Even from God until his soul began to wilt 

And utterly to wither in thy sin's fell heat. 

Then, thrusting from him even innocent de- 
ceit. 

Poor Mathurin did yield the knowledge of 
thy deeds 

Unto the Virgin, telling all the while his 
beads. 

And begging with such fervor thine escape 
from Hell 

That I did hear him even in my distant cell ! 

Theophile. 
Ye holy saints, may these things be — 
Such craft, such deep duplicity — 

In this our world ? 
Ah, sweet Saint John, give ear to me ! 
In Satan's pit right hastily 

Let him be hurled ! 

EuSEBE. 

Mad sinner, cease from raving. Listen si- 
lently. 

[6] 



I know that thou didst steal from the great 

treasury 
The five tall golden goblets gone since 

Easter-morn. 
Ah, better were 't for thee if thou hadst 

ne'er been born. 

Theophile. 
Is, then, my service, high in trust. 
No weightier than mere breeze-blown 
dust ? 

EUSEBE. 

Give here the keys ! 

Theophile. 
Is my true steel so dark with rust 
That for a liar's word I must 
Surrender these ? 

EusEBE [taking the keys] . 

Yea, and thy greater sins wait greater pun- 
ishment. 

For lustful crimes unspeakable thou shalt 
repent. 

Theophile [kneeling]. 
Ah, Blessed Lady, sweet and fair. 
Dear flower-like Virgin, hear my prayer, 

[7] 



And beg from God a wonder-sign 
Proving that I am wholly Thine. 

EUSEBE. 

Despite this artful blasphemy I know thou art 
Rebellious to Our Lady, cold, and black of 

heart, 
A thief and lecherous, and eke a sorcerer, 
Profaning to Hell's service service due to Her. 

Theophile [^sings'], 
^^ Agios verts ros^ 
Mai jios^ audi nos / " 

EuSEBE. 
\_Set%ing the rosary from Theophile' s hands, '\ 

Wherefore, fell Theophile, begone ! I cast 
thee forth 

From out dear Saint Bernard's sweet fellow- 
ship. Go North, 

Go South, I reck not where ; but flee for aye 
this place ; 

Yea, flee till thou hast met Our Lady face to 
face. 

SCENE HL 

Theophile. 
Beloved Virgin, praise be to Thy name, 

\Kissing his medal.'] 

[8] . 



And glory and eternal heavenly fame, 

And my poor humble thanks that Thou hast 

made 
Petition for me. 

Salatin [^x/V^, entering^ . 

Theophile ! Arrayed 
In such disorder ! 

Theophile. 
Still She prays, I wot, 
For my salvation. 
\Rising as he sees that the Abbot is no longer 'with him.~\ 

But He hears Her not ! 
Ah, cold, high God, silent, implacable. 
Wilt Thou not grant Christ's mother a mir- 
acle ? 
Canst Thou refuse Her ? God, She kneels 

to Thee ! 
Saint John, ah, good Saint John, may this 
thing be ? 

[Going to the shrine of Saint John.~\ 

'Johannes^ 

^^ Miserere met et exaudi orationem meant I " 

"Johannes^ 'Johannes ! 

Saint John, God heedeth not Our Lady's 

vjorA ! 
Then pluck Him by the robe ! 

[9] 



Salatin l^aside'j . 
I 'II blight Christ's herd, 
I '11 seize this lamb, if I am Salatin ! 

Theophile [to Saint John\ . 
Thou wilt not ? \rising'\ Then he 's like to 

Mathurin ? 
Yea, John is joined unto mine enemy. 
And God Himself doth aid their enmity ! 
Ah, Thine injustice passeth tolerance ! 
Thousendest meto wander throughout France 
All penniless despite my trusty zeal 
In serving Thy great servant. 

Salatin. 

Theophile ! 
Ho, Theophile ! What ails thee ? 

Theophile \not hearing\ . 

Noxious snakes 
Lisp out false charges, and the Abbot shakes 
Condemning fingers in my face ! 

Salatin. 

What ho ! 
My God, what anger ! Soft, friend, soft and 

slow. 
What ails thee ? Speak. Mayhap with my 
poor aid — 

[10] 



Theophile [still trembling with anger] . 
And who art thou ? 

Salatin. 
Thy friend. Be not dismayed. 
I love thee very sweet, kind sir. Speak, then. 
Tell me thy griefs. 

Theophile. 

I ruled an hundred men, 
The abbey serfs ; I held the treasure-keys ; 
I paid out moneys, gathered all due fees 
Even to-day, as during many years, 
For my lord Abbot — 

Salatin. 
My prophetic fears ! 
Thou art not dispossessed ? 

Theophile. 

Yea, dispossessed, 
And driven forth, goaded, harassed, distressed 
Alike by men and Saints and God the King. 
And though more sweetly than the angels 

sing 
Our Lady prayed for me, God heeded not ; 
And cursed John laughed loudly at my lot 
When in the vulgar and the sacred tongue 



I prayed his grace ! Ah, could I but have 

flung 
A gauntlet in his teeth ! For I am done 
With sufferance ! Since God and Saints are 

one 
In enmity against me, I '11 wage war, 
Dread war, against their host. 

Salatin. 

Soft, soft ! Thou 'It mar 
Thy sure success ! 'T is sure ? Thou 'rt 
well prepared ? 

Theophile. 

Nay, nay. God hideth where no man hath 

fared. 
There, throned above the clouds, and neither 

spear 
Nor winged shaft can find Him. 
[Shaking his fist. ~\ 

Were He near — 

Salatin. 

Beware His lightnings, friend ! 

Theophile. 

I scorn their power ! 

[12] 



Salatin. 
Submit to God before the fatal hour 
When — 

Theophile. 
Never unto Him ! Behold, kind sir, 
Our Lady knelt and prayed. He looked on 

Her 
And turned away. Ah ! verily, my blood 
Boils vi^hen I think on 't ! 

Salatin. 

Stay ! In mire and mud 
He '11 trample thee beneath His feet, if thus. 
Alone, thou assailest Him. But join with 

us. 
With me, sweet Theophile, and with my 

lord. 
And thou shalt conquer, gaining a great 

hoard 
Of treasure, wide fair lands, and many a 

slave. 
Abbots shall do thy bidding : thou shalt pave 
Thy palace-courts with gold — 

Theophile. 

But tell me, friend. 
Shall God's fell tyranny come to an end 
In all the wondrous worlds ? 

[13] 



Salatin. 

Yea, grievous shame, 
Thou, Theophile, shalt bring upon His 

name ; 
And thou shalt grow in conquering glorious 

might 
And rule the powers of day and darkling 

night. 
Yea, thou shalt be well-nigh omnipotent. 
If thou wilt serve a king who is content 
To lend thee aid. 

Theophile. 

Then bring me unto him. 
Gladly I '11 swear him fealty. Yea, each 

whim 
Of his shall be my law. Swift, swift, I pray. 
Bring me to him. 

Salatin. 
Be still ; here is the way. 
Thou seest yonder shaded mossy well, 
Digged during ages when this gentle dell 
Rang with the laughter of a water-sprite 
And echoed with the wildest faun's delight ? 
There, when aloud strange magic words I 

cry, 
A form doth rise — 

[H] 



Theophile. 
'T is Satan ? 

Salatin. 

Yea, and I 
Am Salatin ! Aha, thou fearest me ? — 
Fear not, dear friend, I bear but love toward 

thee. 
And my great lord is enemy to God. 

ISlonvly.'] 
That evil God who gleefully hath trod 
Thee, thee His faithful servant, under foot. 

Theophile. 
Enough, good Salatin, enough ; I '11 put 
My hands between his hands : I '11 be his 
man ! 

Salatin. 
Right bravely said. Thou fearest not the ban 
Of Abbot or of Bishop or of Pope. 

Theophile. 
Nay, not if thou fulfillest my great hope ! 

Salatin. 

[^Dranving on the ground. ] 
So. Stand thou there, friend Theophile, 

[15] 



Until I call thee here to kneel 

Before the king. 

Watch how with mystic signs I deal : 

Behold how stilly I must steal 

Within the ring. 

[Kneeling before the open book and pointing ivith his 

ivand toivard the homes of the four tuinds.'] 

Bagahi haca bacahe 
Lamac cahi acahahe 
Karrelyos. 
\A great nuind rages among the trees. "^ 

Theophile. 

Salatin, dost thou not hear 

An angel crying in great fear, 

\Chanting.'\ 

" De profundis clamavi ad ^^, Domine " ? 

Salatin. 

The voice will cease. 

Lamac lamec bachalyos 

Cahahagi sabalyos 

Baryolos. 

\There is a great noise of thunder. '\ 

Theophile. 
The voice now draweth very near 
And singeth gently in mine ear 

[i6] 



\Chanting.~\ 
Et ipse redimet Israel^ ex omnibus iniquitatibus 
ejus" 

Salatin. 

Sss ! Hold thy peace ! 

Lagazatha cabyolas 

Samahac et famyolas 

Harrahya ! 

\_Red fire flares up^ward from the nuell.'\ 

SCENE IV. 

Satan. 

\Rising^ a trident in his handJ\ 
Ho ! Black thunderous bleak damnation ! 
Why this Hebrew incantation ? 
Hi ! Is this thine adulation ? 
Worship me, weak Salatin. 

Theophile \coQlly'\. 
Strange ! He 's like to Mathurin ! 
Salatin. 
Kindest Satan, 
Blessed Satan, 
Let me greet thy Majesty ! 
Mighty Satan, 
Glorious Satan, 
Grant me — 

[17] 



Satan. 
Sss ! Whom do I see ? 

Theophile. 
Theophile. 

Satan. 

Mine enemy ! 

Salatin. 
Master, dark adversity 
Makes him now thy willing friend. 

Theophile. 
Yea, to thee I '11 gladly bend, 
If against the King on High 
Thou wilt aid me. 

Satan. 

That will I, 
By my hate of Heaven's Lord ! 
Verily my flaming sword 
Waits thy pleasure — S' death ! Ha! Sss! 
Salatin ! 

Salatin. 
Lord, what 's amiss ? 

Satan. 
Ah, slave, thou hast betrayed me with a kiss ! 

[i8] 



He 's still mine enemy. Ho, devils, tss ! 
Hi, Salatin, but thou shalt roast for this ; 
Yea, thou shalt sputter on the spit and hiss ! 

Salatin. 
O kindest Satan, blessed — 

Theophile. 

Hold. He 's true ! 
And thine Injustice thou shalt dearly rue 
If thou dost dare to damn him, innocent. 

Salatin [^plaintively'] . 
A saint I bring thee, cast forth indigent, 
Despised, rejected, and condemned by God, 
His master's Master — 

Theophile. 

Yea, my feet had trod 
The blood-stained rock of exile helplessly. 
Had Salatin not brought me unto Thee. 

Satan. 
Hoyo ! Thou wilt in sooth become my man I 

Theophile. 

\Kneeling on one knee and putting his hands beinveen 
the hands of Sat an. '\ 

My Lord, I swear thee fealty ! 

[19] 



Satan. 

All Hell can 
For thee I '11 valiantly essay: 

My huge might 
Shall make the battle impish play : 

And His plight 
Shall be yet lower than thine to-day. 
All this, my vassal, if thou 'It solemnly for- 
swear 
Thy fealty to the Powers of the upper air ! 

Salatin. 
All, Theophile, if thou wilt solemnly forswear 
Thy fealty to the Powers of the upper air f 

Theophile [rising']. 
I will, and that right gladly ! 

Salatin. 

Dost thou then forswear 
And utterly renounce thine enemy,the Father? 

Theophile. 
I do forswear [the wind wails] and utterly 
renounce the Father. 

Satan. 
'T is well. 

[20] 



Theophile. 
So help me Hell ! 

Salatin. 
Dost thou forswear and utterly renounce the 
Son ? 

Theophile. 

I do forswear and utterly renounce the Son. 

[Lotv thunder rumbles in the air."] 

Satan. 
'T is well. 

Theophile. 
So help me Hell ! 

Salatin. 
And dost thou utterly renounce the Holy 
Ghost ? 

Theophile. 

Yea, I do utterly renounce the Holy Ghost, 

[// thunders furiously.^ 

Satan. 
'T is very well. 

Theophile. 
So help me Hell ! 

[21] 



Salatin. 
Finally thou dost forswear the Virgin Mother 
of God ? 

[Theophile stands silent, quaking.'^ 
Speak. Dost thou utterly forswear the 
Mother of God ? 

Theophile. 

Nay! 

Salatin. 
Nay ? But, Theophile — 

Satan. 

Be still. — Sweet servitor, 
Lo, thou shalt be a prince, a king, an em- 
peror. 
If thou 'It renounce the Virgin's name ; if 

not, forever 
Thy soul shall groan in nethermost Hell. 
Renounce Her ! 

Theophile. 
Never ! 

Salatin. 
Art mad ? 

Satan. 

Be still.— 

[22] 



Renounce Her, or thy corpse shall lie 
Dead there ! But thy poor tortured soul 
shall never die ! 

Theophile \_f ailing on his knees'] . 

Hail to Thee, Mother whom men and angels 
love ! 

Salatin [hastening away] . 
Master, beware. He prays to Her above ! 

Theophile. 

Red rose glowing through life's gloom, 

Lily of virginity, 
Violet in Thy tender bloom. 

Wind-flower of humility, 
Rosemary whose balm-like breath 

Wafts to all souls clemency. 
Save me from the jaws of death ! 

Lily of virginity, 
Save me from the jaws of death ! 

Satan. 

Ha ha! Ha ha ha ! 

She rejects thee proudly ! 

Ha ha ! Hi hi hi ! 
Then renounce Her loudly, 

[23] 



Or thou shalt surely die — I warn thee now 

afresh — 
And serpents with red fangs of fire shall rend 
thy flesh ! 

Theophile. 
Virgin, flower of eglantine, 

Rescue me from Satan's ire ! 
Rose of Heaven, my soul is Thine ; 
Save it from eternal fire ! 

Satan. 
Curs'd Theophile, renounce Her, or thou 
diest ! 

Theophile. 
Dear Virgin, glory to Thee in the highest ! 

Satan. 

[Holding his right hand aloft nvith poiver."] 
Then die, perfidious heavenly one ! 

Theophile \_sore woundea] . 

Dearest Lady, hear Thy son ! 

Flower of eglantine, red rose, 
Lily fair, glad life is done : 

Through eternal fiery woes 
I must suffer for my sin, 

Suffer far, oh, far from Thee ! 

[24] 



Ere my punishment begin 

Pity, then, ah pity me : 
Grant me one sweet parting grace, 
One dear vision of Thy face ! 

Satan. 
Hi hi ! Ha ha ha ! Hi hi ! Ha ha ! 

Theophile U'amtly'^ . 
Ah, flower of eglantine, red rose. 

Sweet violet, smile upon my woes. 
Grant me one sight of Thy dear face ! 
[.Dying.'] 
Oh, may I ne 'er behold Thy grace ? 

Satan. 
Ho ha ! Ha hi ! 

[To the de'vils belonv.] 

Lagazatha cabyolas 

Samahac et famyolas. 

Harrahya ! 

SCENE V. 

The voice of Our Lady : 
Peace, peace be with thee, Theophile. 

Satan \^hastify']. 
Ha^ lamac lamec hachalyos, 

[25] 



Our Lady [appearing] . 
Thy love hath saved thee, Theophile. 

Satan \_in great rage] . 

Hi^ cahahagi sahalyos 

Baryolos ! 

\He descendeth into Hell.'] 

Our Lady. 
Dread wound of Theophile, 

Close, close and heal : 
Red blood of Theophile, 

Soft onward steal : 
Dear soul of Theophile, 
Leave woe for weal : 
Fear not, sweet Theophile — 
[Our Lady doth bless his forehead ijuith a kiss.~\ 

Theophile. 
Dear Lady, flower of eglantine, 

I fear no longer Satan's ire : 
Red rose of Heaven, all joy is mine; 

My soul shall sing, yea, in Hell-fire. 

Our Lady. 
Night shall not seize thee, Theophile. 

Nay, God will deal 
Righteously toward thee, Theophile. 

[26] 



Win but the love that He doth feel 

For thee : yea, kneel 
In trust to Him. To Him appeal 
As unto me, my Theophile — 
God bless thee, blessed Theophile. 
[She is gone.'] 



SCENE VI. 

Theophile. 
Red rose glowing through lifers gloom, 

Lily of virginity, 
Violet in Thy tender bloom. 

Wind-flower of sweet sanctity, 
Rosemary whose balm-like breath 

Fills me with humility. 
Thine am I, e'en unto death ; 

But for Thee and for Thy love 

IRising.'] 
Praise unto Thee, great God above ! 
Yea, praise to Thee and endless fame, 

[Kissing his medal.'] 
And honor, Lady, to Thy name ! 
[Walking toivard the abbey ^ he sings.] 
''''Ave maris stella^ 
Dei Mater alma^ 

[27] 



Atque semper virgo^ 
Felix coeli porta ... 

^^ Virgo singularis^ 
Inter omnes mitis^ 
Nos culpis solutos^ 
Mites fac et castas . . . 

"6'// laus Deo Patri^ 
Summo Christo decus^ 
Spiritui Sancto^ 
Tribus honor unus^ 

EUSEBE. 

\As a simple monk, entering joyously^ follonjoed by an 

acolyte hearing the mitre, '\ 

Ah, Theophile ! 

Theophile. 

Once more I seek this place 
For I have met Our Lady face to face. 

\_With bonved head.~\ 
But, driven guiltless from the abbey door, 
I sought with Salatin to wage a war 
'Gainst God — 

EusEBE [kneeling'] . 
Dear Theophile ! 

Theophile [raising himl . 

My Lord — 

[28] 



EUSEBE. 

Be still. 

^Taking the mitre and setting it upon his head.'\ 
Forgiven is thy sin ; and 't is Our Lady's will 
That in obedience unto thee thy lord shall 

bow 
And set the mitre reverently upon thy brow. 
For, saith Our Lady, thy strong hand shall 

wield 
The crozier, while I hold the keys which I 

did yield 
To thine accuser — 

Theophile. 
Mathurin ? 

EusEBE. 

Yea, even so, 
But he is dead. 

Theophile [crossing himself 1^ . 
Poor Mathurin ! 

EuSEBE. 

Mourn not; for lo, 
Dear Theophile, the Lord our God is very 

just 
And full of equity ; in Him we '11 put our 

trust ; 

[29] 



And though He chasteneth us, we'll give 

Him endless praise. 
Praise Him; yea, praise Him, brethren ; laud 

His holy ways ! 

All \_sing]. 

" Te Deum laudamus : te Dominum confitemur, 
Te aeternum Patrem omnis terra veneratur. 
Tibi omnes angeli^ tihi coeli^ et universae potestates , 
Tibi cherubim et seraphim incessabili voce po- 

clamant : 
Sanctus^sanctus^sanctuSjDominus Deus Sabaoth, 
Pleni sunt coeli et terra^ majestatis gloriae tuae, 

Theophile. 

" Benedicamus Patrem et Filium^ cum Sancto 
Spiritu, 

All. 

" Laudamus et super-exaltemur in saecula, 
Amenr 



[30] 



EPILOGUE. 

EUSEBE. 

Well chanted. — Now, dear friends, our Mir- 
acle is done. 

Then if, by some far greater miracle, we 've 
won 

Your hearts, lend us your hands ; clap gladly, 
every one ! 



[31] 



Theophile^ a Miracle Play^ by Henry Copley 
Greene^ was printed from type at the Everett 
Press in Boston for Small^ Maynard ^ Com- 
pany of Boston^ in December^ l8g8^ in an edi- 
tion of two hundred and fifty copies^ on Alton 
Mills handmade paper. 

The frontispiece was reproduced from a paint- 
ing.^ representing a scene in the play^ by Cecilia 
Beaux, 




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